TREATMENT PLAN
Hair Day at the Hospital
Pondering the importance of Light when our power suffers an outage
Of course, it was only a matter of time before my beautiful friend’s treatment plan would include lush chestnut swathes of art therapy for her stressed tresses and shocked psyche.
My beautiful friend may be rooted to a hospital bed… she may be rising with grace above innumerable indignities, stark pronouncements, unappeasable pain… But thick strokes of grey spilling like doubt into faith past her hairline, into her crown remain intolerable. Her edict — no leaden strands in her russet corona.
I get it. Only death will keep me from painting my face. (My edict — undertaker, hands off! Forty years later, how deeply my father’s pancake redo haunts my thin-skinned psyche.)
Oh, my beautiful friends, when will we see that the luster we conceive, summon, inspire, bequeath is what matters? Especially when, in one rabid stroke of the second hand, our power suffers an outage?
©Jenine Bsharah Baines 2023
A second poem inspired by my beautiful friend’s triple stroke. (Yes, triple!)
Thank you, Diana C., for the home at Know Thyself, Heal Thyself…and for the perfect prompt: Write about the questions that have been lingering in your mind, awaiting an answer.
And thank you, team at Know Thyself, Heal Thyself — Ravyne Hawke, Spyder — and dearest readers for pondering with me. Love.
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